


Don't Be Sorry

by EzzyAlpha



Series: Sometimes all you can do is keep breathing [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/F, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyAlpha/pseuds/EzzyAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Lalonde is 17 years old and lives in the shadow of her older sister, who she has been in love with for years. One day, the secret is revealed and Rose is astonished to find Roxy reciprocates her feelings.</p><p>Despite the odds against them, they can't bear to be apart and maintain their relationship in secret. Of course, nothing stays a secret for long and eventually they are forced to run away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Your sister has always been the thorn on your side, the splinter on your finger, the glass shard on your foot. With her height and her weight and her brains, she was so much more you could be.

Three years older than you, she had always been mom’s favorite and you were just an accident. You’re surprised your middle name isn’t Broken-Condom.

She’d been whisked away by a fancy college as soon as she turned sixteen. Everyone commented on her good looks and her manners and how very nice she was. Even her “little” drinking problem was treated as a minor indiscretion, glorified even, like a mole on a celebrity’s face.

Meanwhile, you’re just the short, somewhat pudgy, back talking to teachers and ill-tempered younger sister.

You hate her face and her hair which make you look oh-so-similar, you hate her ridiculous soft scarves that smell like her perfume and you hate her airy laugh and bubbly personality.

But above all, you hate that you are irrevocably in love with her.

At the moment you are somewhat hovering outside of her bedroom.

You can smell cheap liquor and there’s loud videogame noises and shouting. It would probably be for the best to just go back to bed but you made your decision. You just didn’t expect her to be drunk today.

How foolish.

You are dragging yourself back to your room when the door to hers opens and you turn around, your eyes going wide and your jaw slacking. You must look very amusing, wearing a frilly pink robe and looking exactly like a deer in headlights.

She looks over you, her pink eyes glazed over and half lidded.

“Rosey, why are you out of bed, dear?”

You are simultaneously filled with rage and passion as you take in her words. You could never tell if she was being serious or passive-aggressive with her pet names and concern. It is 3 am, you’ve been caught sneaking around and she’s drunk so you’re leaning more towards the later.

“I went for a glass of water. Dear sister.”

“Well, you should, like, go back to bed and stuff, you have school tomorrow.”

“I will.”

She walks past you, towards the kitchen, and you are left standing in the hall. You storm into your room and the only reason you didn’t slam the door is because your mother is asleep and there would be hell if you awoke her.

You throw the robe on your computer chair, leaving you in your underwear, and lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling stares back in the form of pictures of cartoon cats.

You lay there soaking in misery and embarrassment for you just tried to seduce your sister and failed horribly.

Nevertheless, you begin to hatch a new plan.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, you are 13 years old and you are in love with your own sister.

-

You are stirred from your sleep when the first rays of sunlight are entering your room. You vaguely hear screaming and things being throw around and the oddly familiar crash of fancy porcelain hitting the wall. You turn around, more asleep than awake. Between the thick blankets and your flannel pajamas it’s far too hot but you’re too tired to care.

The yelling stops abruptly. You feel yourself fading back to the realm of your dreams when the door opens, closes and someone sits beside you.

You feel fingers through your hair and hear what is perhaps a sob and it’s as if you are safer than ever before.

When you awake, you can’t remember it.

You slid out of bed as elegantly as an elephant dancing ballet and glare at yourself in the mirror. Self-loathing fit you like a glove, not that you’d ever admit it. You begrudgingly take off your pajamas and change into a sweater and a skirt. You slather on your usual pound of makeup and observe yourself in the mirror again. It’s passable.

You rip your messenger bag off the hook in the wall and leave your room. You have school soon and it’s best to get something in your stomach before you have to listen to your boorish and despondent public school teachers try to drone knowledge into your class of philistines, anarchists and hos. As you walk towards the staircase, the door to your sister’s room opens and out she comes, another dumb scarf wrapped around her neck and obviously hung over.

“I hate your stupid scarves with a fiery passion comparable only to the destruction of Pompeii.”

“Nice to see you too!” she chirps and grins like a madman on acid. Alright, to be fair, she is grinning in a perfectly normal way but it still unnerves you.

Mostly because it causes your stomach to churn violently and your heart to flutter.

Despite her usual cheeriness, there is a bitter undertone to her voice. Her eyes are red and her makeup more smudged than usual and you notice a bandage around her thumb.

You don’t ask.

Her grin fades to a quiet smile and she waves at you as she walks down the stairs, far less enthusiastic than usual.

You stand in the hallway, attempting to calm yourself long enough to stop feeling like a school girl _in love_.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, you are 17 years old and you are _still_ in love with your own sister, one Roxy Lalonde.

It’s more than a little annoying.

 

 


	2. I’m taking you out for a snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy picks up Rose from school and they go out for burgers.They end up having a heart to heart in an abandoned alley.

You are sitting in German class, cursing the school lunch of greasy meatloaf as you are sure it is what caused your acid reflux. You’re more than a little queasy when the bell rings and your professor stares stupidly, his mouth open, as your classmates begin their flurry to get the fuck out of there. It is the last period and you praise every god for it.

As much as you enjoy learning, school has always been the bane of your existence, situated just barely below your sister in the list of things that leave you trembling in rage. You walk through the darkened hallways, with the broken floor tiles and yellowed walls, teenagers in skimpy clothes and baggy jeans littering the halls. As much as you dislike any interaction with your schoolmates, you don’t hate them nor blame them for their own ignorance, as they are simply a product of their age and society, much like you are a product of self-abhorrence and familiar issues.

You walk through the school gates and pause mid-step. Your sister’s pink BMW is parked outside. She is, of course, at the steering wheel and waves to you.

Your insides burn and you’re not sure if it’s due to your feelings for her or the remarkably strange event of her actually picking you up.

You haven’t been picked up from school since 7th grade. The very notion of someone caring enough to insure you were safe getting home from your inner city high school strikes you as alien.

Then again, with Roxy away for her studies for most of her life with a car license, it might not be that surprising.

You crash your own train of thoughts; you were actually entertaining notions of your sister caring for you.

Nevertheless, you climb onto the passenger’s seat and she smiles sweetly at you (your stomach does a flip and convulses), asking how your day was.

You make a disgruntled noise and shrug, trying to use indifference to mask your true feelings. Her smile falters and it’s knives in your heart.

“It was normal, really, just about as nice as a day in a building full of underdeveloped, immature buffoons and the teenagers they teach could go.”

She’s back to her perky self in an instance, as she pulls out of the parking space and drives towards your house. Except she’s not driving towards your house and why did she take that turn.

“Roxy, are you aware of the actual path to our house?”

“Of course I am silly, I’m taking you out for a snack. I hope that one burger joint is okay, I haven’t been home in so long I’ve forgotten most of the hip places.”

You furrow your brows at the words home and hip but say nothing. You’re actually filled with a feeling that could be described as joy, sick and twisted as it is, amplified by the lack of the seemingly ever present odor of cheap booze on her.

You look out the window just so you can stop staring at your sister.

-

“Okay, so this is how it goes.”

“Oh no.”

“You put all your sweet and sour and honey mustard on your burger.”

“No, stop it.”

“You pile on as many nuggets as possible. The more sauce you have the easier it is.”

“Roxy, no.”

“Then you dip your fries in your shake.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you put it on top of the nuggets.”

“Eugh.”

“Then you place the lettuce and extra patty on top. And you eat it.”

“Roxy, _don’t._ ”

Roxy took a bite out of the defiled burger, sauce and shake dripping down her face. You’re not sure if you should laugh, cry or throw up.

She gives you this stupid grin and you feel yourself blushing violently. It’s ludicrous.

You quietly eat your chicken nuggets as she goes on and on about what she’s studying. It’s actually quite nice. She doesn’t patronize you or dumb it down. She’s essentially treating you like an equal.

You can’t remember the last time someone was so nice to you.

You can’t remember the last time you two conversed like this.

You snap out of your forgotten memories induced trance to see Roxy staring at you, an eyebrow quirked, worry in her eyes.

“Sorry.” You mumble, casting your gaze towards the ground and drawing circles on the table with your finger. You feel something touch your hand gently for less than a second and when you look up Roxy’s arms are by her side and she’s looking uncomfortable. You clear your throat; the atmosphere is suffocating.

“Perhaps we should return home, mother must be…Worried.”

Roxy sighs, places her elbows on the table and grabs her head.

“Rose, I…”

She looks up at you with such despair on her features you are taken aback. This is not a face the sister you know could make. You’re unsure of what to do. She seems unsure of what to do.

Roxy gets up and nods. She walks out and you follow her.

The BMW was parked in a currently deserted alley by the restaurant. Roxy reached the car first and promptly sat her ass down on the hood.

“Should you be doing that.” You ask, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m sorry.”

You are once again abashed.

“Unless you’re excusing yourself for that food abomination you _actually ate_ , I am unsure as to what you are apologizing for.”

“Everything I guess.”

She looks deadly serious for once. You take a hesitant step forward so you’re standing in front of her.

“Be a bit more specific, perhaps?”

She makes a choked noise and it’s with much surprise that you realize she’s on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry mom ignores you in my favor. I’m sorry I’ve never been there for you. I’m sorry that everyone likes me better than you, because I am not worth that attention and you are. You’re the smartest 17-year old I’ve ever met, you’re educated and witty and I am so pissed that no one can see that because of me. I’m sorry you were stuck going to a shitty public school because you’re the one who deserves a proper education, not me.”

There’s tears streaming down her face and her nose is dripping; she looks absolutely miserable and you have no idea what to do. She looks up at you, bright pink eyes filled with so much remorse and your heart is not just in pain, it’s combusting like lava, firing up your insides as every resentment you held towards her rise to your skin and you’re crying too, when did that happen. She sniffles loudly, a pained moan leaving her perfect lips and whispers:

“I’m sorry dad died and you had to be stuck with me and mom.”

You break down and you wail, dropping into her arms. She catches you easily and hugs you with force, and you’re crying into each other’s necks.

Her perfume is intoxicating and she’s so soft and warm, and all layers of animosity and antagonism melt away, leaving you basking in love and misery, but especially misery because you just want to love her and you can’t and now your lips are on hers.

You expect her to push you away, to disown you and be disgusted.

You didn’t expect her to kiss back but she does and it’s messy and passionate but mostly messy, because you’re both still crying and there’s tears and mucus and lipstick everywhere.

You retrieve some of your spare common sense and oh lord, you’re in public. You pull away, gasping and Roxy moans and whines and reaches for you but you press your hand on her chest and keep her down and you are left staring at each other.

“Rose…”

“Can we just get in the car?”

You do so, slowly and you’re left inside a bright pink BMW trying your best to not look at each other. Roxy doesn’t even bother turning on the car.

“How long?” she asks. You turn to her languidly, your mouth slightly open in confusion. Her hair is messed up from when you grabbed onto it, her lipstick is all over her face, her eyes are puffy and red and she’s glistening with sweat, tears and snot.

It bothers you that you still find her stunningly beautiful.

“How long have you…liked me.”

“I love you.” You say, particularly amazed at how easy it was.

“Oh.”

“Four years.”

“ _Oh._ ”

She grabs your hand and you feel warm and cold all over.

“I’ve loved you for three years. I guess you win.” She chuckles “Oh, oh no, Rose.”

You’re staring at her, wide eyed, and you’re crying again. It doesn’t even cross your mind how your self-control has basically disappeared. She reaches out but hesitates, grabs her scarf and wipes your tears. You managed a weak but sincere smile.

“What the fuck is wrong with us.” You ask.

Roxy sighs and rubs her face.

“Rose…”

“Yes?”

“Mom has been taking from your college fund to pay for my studies. I’m sorry, I just found out today and-“

“I knew.”

“How?”

“I found the bank receipts.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said. Don’t be.”

You sit in the car, Roxy holding your hand, for as long as you can. You’re not giving her up. Not anymore.

 


	3. It seems this will hurt like a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Roxy spend a Saturday alone.

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, you are 9 years old and you are in love with wizards.

You’re in your room in your apartment reading under the desk. Mom has been rather upset as of lately.

She says your dad died. You don’t really remember your dad so you don’t feel sad but people expect you to so you put on a frown and cry a bit and people give you candy. It’s actually sorta nice. You wonder if that makes you a bad person.

You hear the door open and your mom’s muffled voice. She sounds upset, but then again, when hasn’t she sounded upset for the past month? She didn’t even smile at your A in Biology and she always pampers you when you get As.

You suppose that she’s been under a lot of stress because of dad. You briefly wonder what your dad was like.

Your mother shows up at the door, looking around in confusion. You pop out from under the desk and smile. She smiles back sadly. You don’t know what’s wrong but she tells you to come with her so you do.

You skip down the hall and to the door but you freeze. There is, essentially, a mini you at the door. You freak out a bit. Mom puts her hand on your shoulder.

On closer inspection, the girl standing at the door is not that similar to you. Her hair is straighter, she’s somewhat plump, and her eyes are a deep violet and perhaps wider. The biggest difference is the look on her face. Now that is sadness, unlike the fake kind you’ve been pulling whenever someone asks if you miss your daddy.

Mom turns to you, her voice reassuring.

“Since your father died, your sister will now live with us. You remember Rose right.”

A faint flicker of recognition sparks deep inside your mind. You didn’t exactly have reasons to remember her, given mom never spoke about her. She barely spoke about your father too.

Mom is now turned to Rose. You look up at her and you’re surprised to see the scorn on her eyes despite the smile on her lips. The man standing next to Rose doesn’t see it. He must be the social worker.

“Now, Rose” he says “Why don’t you give your mother a hug?”

Despite the icy glare on her face, Rose seems frightened. You don’t even know her and you want to comfort her. You think about what if it was your mother that died and you had to live with your dad.

“Yes, come here Rose. Let us show you around your new house.”

The man nudges Rose and she regretfully steps towards your mom.

When the man leaves, the smile drops off your mom’s face. She throws Rose’s bags in the living room because there are only two rooms. You want to tell your mom Rose can sleep in your bed but she seems really upset and you don’t want to make her mad.

You try hanging out with Rose while your mom is in the kitchen but your sister refuses to speak. The phone rings and you can hear your mom. She never realized how thin the walls of your apartment were.

“Yeah, can you believe it? It was in his will, otherwise I wouldn’t get the inheritance and I need it to put Roxy into a nice school, my god, she is so smart. I really can’t take care of another kid, though.”

There is a pause in the conversation. You can see Rose is paying attention.

“I never wanted her anyway.”

-

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, you are 20 years old and you love your sister, which would be great given no one else does, but unfortunately, you love her a little too much.

In fact, you are loving her too much right now, as your hand is on her bare thigh and your lips are on her neck.

You are lying on your bed (hers is too small and the door doesn’t have a lock), you’re both wearing only your underwear and a top and Rose is deeply asleep. It is not as bad as it looks though.

You take a moment to remember your talk after she first kissed you, where you decided unanimously that yes, this was a thing that had to happen, despite what society and morality and other factors said. It seemed like a great idea at the time as you were both high on love and excitement, and she had promptly launched herself at your face and you found yourself not minding the fact that she is 17 and about as experienced as a dish rag.

You had started occasionally sleeping in the same bed. And by sleeping you mean actual sleeping as the thought of tarnishing your sister isn’t quite sitting right with you yet. Except for those nights in which one of you was filled with self-loathing and a moral conscience, it has become a habit.

It’s sweet and romantic and it would be an amazing love story if you two didn’t share about 50% of your DNA.

You hug her waist and bury your face in her hair and consider the fact you are a horrible person. Perhaps if you had been more sisterly rather than trying to be her friend. Maybe if you weren’t away for most of the year.

Speaking of which, your mother has been rather obnoxious about you returning to your studies.

You don’t imagine it happening anytime soon given the circumstances.

Rose stirs and you kiss her cheek.

“I had an idea” she says, lazily opening her eyes and backing against you “for my book.”

Her voice is scratchy from sleep and it makes you smile.

“I’m listening.”

“What if I perhaps make the protagonist morally dubious?”

The words ‘morally dubious’ float in your mind and grasp at your common sense which you had been ignoring. Rose doesn’t realize it.

“That would work. How much have you actually planned out.”

She shakes her head and rolls over, shoving her face on your neck.

“Not much.”

The morning sun is filtering through the blinds and you thank the fact it’s Saturday and there is absolutely no reason to get out of bed.

Just as you are perfectly content where you are, there is a sharp knock on your door. Rose twitches under your arm and although her face is perfectly calm, you know she’s panicking.

“What.” You growl, hoping your mother will take a hint and leave you the fuck alone.

“Do you want breakfast?”

You look down at Rose, who contorts her face in confusion. Mom doesn’t cook.

“No.”

“Should I brew some coffee?”

“No mom.”

Go away.

“We have waffles.”

“I’m not hungry.”

_Go away._

“It’s already 10 am, when are you getting out of bed?”

“Go away!”

There is a pause. You can hear your mother take a deep breath. Rose is shivering under your arm, her face burrowed in your chest.

“Have you seen your sister?”

“No.” you say, firmly and with barely contained rage.

“Okay.”

You lie and hear her walking down the stairs. You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Rose is grasping your shirt.

You look down at her and it hits you like a pound of bricks, well, more like a whole house, that _she’s still a kid_.

You hug her and kiss her head, trying your best to comfort her.

You’re a horrible person but you don’t know what else you can do.

-

It was a lazy Saturday. You’re currently sitting at the window sill of your room, sipping hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows and rum, and watching the rain splatter on the pavement as the sun sets. Your mother is pulling a late night and she probably won’t be home until the AMs. You tug at the strings of your hoodie absent-mindedly.

When you were younger, you never thought you’d ever resent your mother this much. Yet you do. All she ever did was hurt Rose. You’re not sure when this protectiveness for your sister started but it was long before you even had any sort of romantic notions at all. Maybe it was when those kids in the playground stole her marbles. Maybe it was when she fell from the monkey bars and split her head open. Maybe it was when your mother essentially renounced her as her child, dismissing her as an accident, a fluke, to be thrown away like she did with your father after her birth-

A snap and chocolate is on the floor, you are left holding a cup and a broken handle. There’s a shard of ceramic deep in your left hand.

The door creeks and you curse under your breath.

“Roxy, there’s not a single can of tuna to be found in that godforsaken mess of a kitchen but I found macaroni and cheese and- Oh.”

She stares at your hands and the broken mug.

“Did it insult your ancestors and the very ground they walked on.” She asks. You laugh sarcastically and leave the mug and shattered handle on the window sill as you get up.

“We must remove the shard and disinfect the area.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Come here.”

You crabbily extend your hand to her. The shard is long and thin and protrudes from your palm a good inch. She tentatively tugs at it and you hiss in pain.

“It seems this will hurt like a bitch.” She says.

You grit your teeth.

“Do it.”

“I’m afraid I will hurt you.”

“Just do it.”

“Okay!” she gleefully proclaims and with a quick tug the shard is good and you are whimpering like a baby.

“What the fuck happened to afraid to hurt me?!”

“Well, you told me to, quote, do it.” She says, a smirk playing across her lips.

“I’m going to demand compensation for this.” You mumble.

In a minute your hand is clean and bandaged. You are sitting on your bed and looking up at Rose, who is still smiling wickedly. Your hands are on her hips and you press against them, ignoring the sting on your palm.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your eyebrows quirk up.

“Well, I did say I would demand compensation.”

“I see.”

Rose presses against you and then you’re lying back and she’s straddling you, her lips on your collarbone, your hand on her thigh.

 There’s a pang of guilt in the back of your mind but you push it down.

She’s kissing your jaw and your hand is up her shirt, she’s so soft. She smells like chocolate and home and she’s so warm. You’re nibbling on her lower lip now, and her knee is pressed between your legs and you’re both gasping and she’s making little moans in the back of her throat. You hear a door open and close but you don’t notice because oh my god she’s actually unbuttoning your jeans and there’s a sound of footsteps on the stairs and you belatedly remember you didn’t lock the door. You pull back and try to push Rose away.

The door opens.


	4. And I won’t throw you away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their mother catches them in a compromising position

You realize there is something wrong when Roxy’s lips aren’t on yours and she’s pushing you away and you hear the door opening.

Your mother is standing at the door; eyes wide with shock and you gasp and fall to your knees besides the bed. Roxy has gotten up and she’s between you and your mother and her arms are open, shielding you.

You watch your mother’s face go from surprised to confused to enraged. Her eyes jump from your sister to you and you want to flee but it’s almost as if you’re nailed to the floor.

“How dare you!” she screams and you recoil. She’s quite obviously yelling at you and Roxy’s head snaps back and forth as she looks at the two of you. You’re at a loss for words.

“You, of course you’d seduce _your own sister_ , you disgraceful little whore, why, even since you came to my house you’ve been nothing but trouble and expenses, you-“

“Shut up!” screams Roxy, and you can see your mother visibly step back, her jaw dropping.

“Just shut up!” Roxy’s fists are trembling by her side and she’s baring her teeth, you curl into yourself and clutch your sleeves.

“What did you just say to me?” asks your mom, bewilderment on her face. Roxy moves forward.

“You do not have the right to talk to her like that! You’ve done nothing but put her down and treat her like shit when she did nothing to deserve it! You don’t get to cuss her out, you don’t get to speak ill of her, _do you hear me?”_

Roxy looks back at you and grimaces. She walks up to your mother and drags her out of the room but she’s too stunned to say anything.

You’re left sitting on the floor. Your mind is foggy and your thoughts are racing too fast for a coherent one to form. It’s still raining outside, harder even. You can hear yelling, lots of it, and eventually crashing silverware and dishes.

There’s stomping up the stairs. The door opens and Roxy walks in, her face red and tears streaming down her face.

“Get your stuff, just the essentials.”

You open your mouth to ask why but the question dies in your throat as you sob and realize you are also crying. Roxy helps you up and out of her room into yours.

“I’m getting you out of this house, dear.”

Roxy leaves you alone. You go into auto pilot as you shove sweaters and skirts, your mind blank. You look at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup is running and your hair is disheveled. You miss your bag and a pair of stockings ends up in the floor. You hear a loud sob and tardily realize it came from your mouth. Roxy comes back, drapes a heavy coat over your shoulders, asks you if you’re missing anything, picks up your bags over hers and drags you down the stairs by the wrist. You pass by your mother in the kitchen where she’s opened up a bottle of bourbon.

“We’re going.” Says Roxy.

“Just get out of my house.” Says your mother.

You leave through the front door. Rain splatters on your face. Roxy is dragging you up the street where her car is parked. Another sob escapes your lips and Roxy stops to look at you, the scarf around her neck snagging in her earring. She tries to remove it without ruining the scarf as she looks you over.

“We can never go back, can we?” you ask. Her jaw drops. She clenches her teeth and looks downwards. You feel yourself falling as tears flow down your face and your sobs grow louder.

You wail and scratch at your face. Roxy tries to grab you but you push her away. You grab yourself as you bawl.

“She doesn’t love me!” you scream and it burns your throat.

“Rosie.”

“Don’t Rosie me! She doesn’t love me and you know it!”

“Rose, just-“

“Nobody loves me, I’m a reject of the highest caliber and I just got thrown out of my house! Not that I was even wanted there in the first place!”

The rain only seems to be getting worst. You’re digging into your arms and crying your eyes out, screaming and wailing.

“There’s no fucking point, Roxy! Where the fuck are we going to go?! What the fucking hell are we going to even _do_!?”

“I-“

“You don’t know _anything._ It’s all your fucking fault! No, but it’s never _your_ fault, it’s mine, I’m the fucking devil’s child! No wonder she so easily threw me out, because no one would fucking notice if I was gone because nobody fucking loves m-“

“I love you!”

Your breath stops as your eyes shot up to meet Roxy’s. She has a determined expression on her face, even as the rain washes down her makeup, thin lines of grey across her tan skin.

“And I won’t throw you away.”

You lose yourself in her arms as you cry into her chest. She’s rubbing soothing circles on her back and whispering into your hair. You’re not listening but it’s comforting. After a minute, you realize it’s raining and pull back to look up at the sky. Grey clouds and stars stretch as far as the eye can see. You realize you’ve stopped crying, though the occasional sob escapes. Roxy is stroking your hair.

“It’s cold.” You mutter.

You feel something soft being wrapped around your neck and you look down to see Roxy’s scarf. You smile.

-

“You’re fucking unbelievable, how can you eat that.”

“It’s delicious.”

Roxy is gobbling down a burger with beef, chicken and fish patties and covered in garlic sauce and ketchup. The sauce has spread around her face and you hope she has remembered to pack lipstick. You gnaw on a chicken burger and try to look outside. The windows of the BMW are foggy. You wipe it with your sleeve.

There are couples and families walking outside the parking lot. It’s around 10 pm and people are going home.

You sigh and burrow into Roxy’s scarf. You look at her and she seems to be busy stuffing her mouth with fries and thumbing at her phone.

“You’re going to get grease on the screen.”

She makes a dismissive sound.

“Roxy?”

“Mhm?”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m working on it.”

“What, by going on Facebook.”

“I don’t go on Facebook.”

She turns the phone to you and there’s a picture of her and a blond guy with stupid shades on the screen.

“Who’s that.”

“A friend I met in college. We’re going to meet up with him and he can help us. You can hang out with his little brother; I think you’ll like him.”

“We’re on the run and you want me to be sociable.”

Roxy rolls her eyes and pops a fry into her mouth.

“We’re not on the run, it’s not like there’s a mob armed with pitch forks and torches.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting.” You murmur. Roxy’s bops you in the shoulder and you have to resist smiling.

“Where does this ‘friend’ of yours live anyway?”

Roxy takes a bite out of the obnoxious chimeric burger and chews slowly. You jerk up an eyebrow.

“Roxy…”

She shrugs at you and waves the burger.

“Don’t try to pass this off as conceding to my request of not speaking with your mouth full.  You took that bite after I asked and you are obviously chewing slower than usual. Cease the fucking façade.”

Roxy rolls her eyes and sighs. She swallows.

“Texas.”

Your mouth opens and you’re sure you look fairly comical.

“You want to drive through half the fucking country?”

“It wouldn’t take…That long…”

“It would take at least 5 days if you speed like a maniac for the entirety of the day and part of the night.”

“Those numbers seem iffy.”

You sink into your seat.

“Can we really do this, Roxy?”

“There’s really no ‘can’ in this. We have to. And I don’t see a way besides this one.”

She shucks the empty fast food packages to the back seat and pulls out of the parking lot.

“So we should just get on the road.”

-

It’s around 2 am when your eyelids began to feel heavy and your head light. You tuck the scarf behind you and look at Roxy. She looks tired.

“We should stop.” You say.

“Stop where. There’s no hotel for miles.”

You pout at her.

“Are you just not going to sleep?”

“If you’re tired you can go sleep in the back.”

“I’m not tired, I’m fine.”

“I’m the one’s who’s not tired. I slept more than you.”

“No you didn’t. Why don’t we pull onto a parking lot and sleep in the car?”

“Because that’s dangerous as fuck?”

She glances at you and frowns.

“You look exhausted, seriously, go sleep in the back, I’ll be fine, I had like a shit ton of coffee at dinner.”

You frown but don’t resist. You shimmy through the front seats and lay down in the back, playing with Roxy’s scarf. You fall asleep with your senses enveloped in it, Roxy’s perfume surrounding you.


	5. That was very considerate of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of driving, the Lalondes need a rest.

It’s around 9 am when you hear Rose stir behind you. Your gaze flicks up to look at the rear view mirror. Rose gets up and yawns, her hair sticking everywhere. She looks around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh my god, Roxy, have you been driving all night?”

You open your mouth to speak and cough loudly. Your throat feels scratchy and sore as you answer.

“Maybe.”

Rose squeezes herself between the seats and plops down next to you, a concerned expression on her face.

“You’ve been awake for almost 24 hours, driving isn’t exactly safe at this point.”

“I’m fine.” You growl. Your hands slid around the wheel.

“It would be best to stop.”

“I’m fine!”

Rose recoils and focuses her attention outside.

“So…Where exactly are we?”

You scratch at your jaw.

“I dunno. Ohio?”

Rose is staring at you again.

“We should stop.”

“I’m fine!”

“Yeah, and I need to pee. Stop at the next gas station.”

You roll your eyes and make pained moans. She reaches out and snaps your nose.

-

You’re prodding at the ATM’s buttons with such force the pump attendant is glaring at you. Your headache isn’t getting any better and you have a desperate need for a scotch on the rocks. Rose scurried off to eat after you threw a twenty at her.

You rub your temple with your free hand as you try to withdraw as much money as possible.

You now have around 750 dollars. It’s probably enough to last you until you get to Texas. You’re just glad you got to actually withdraw it before your mother cut off your card.

You reach under your hoodie and shove the money in your bra. You rub your hands together; it’s getting way too cold. The pounding in your ears and the sharp stab like flashes of pain behind your eyes aren’t getting any better.

The building with the food court and gift shop was old, decrepit and not very safe looking. There was probably Asbestos like…Everywhere.

You don’t actually know much about Asbestos.

You spot Rose absent mindedly sipping a Coke and watching the small TV that’s propped up on the wall. You smirk. Her hair is still a mess. A flash of pain breaks your thoughts and you hurry to the store, hoping to find aspirin.  A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you grab a small bottle of the drug. You also pick up some books and the newspaper, Rose probably didn’t pack anything of the sort. You stop and look at her, across the building. She’s wearing a sweater vest over a thin shirt.

You scowl and make your way to the small selection of clothes in the store. There are some fairly warm looking hoodies but…They’re somewhat…Bright.

You pick the orange one over the florescent green and pink and really hope she doesn’t hate it.

On your way to the cash register, you stop at the rack of whiskey bottles. You sneakily grab one.

You look over at Rose and swallow dry. She’s still distracted. You drop your items on the counter and smile at the cashier. He looks younger than you but not by much, although acne still spreads across his features.

He glances at the whiskey bottle and opens his mouth to speak but you lick your lips and lean on the counter.

“So, how much will this be?”

He stammers and rings you up. You’re out of there in a minute.

You drop on the chair next to Rose. She doesn’t look at you but shoves two sandwiches in your direction.

“I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“It’s okay, I’ll eat both.”

She tries to frown at you but ends up smirking. You unwrap a tuna sandwich and start eating.

“So uh.”

She looks up at you, propping her head up on her hand, elbow on the table. You take a moment to appreciate the deep violet of her eyes and her long lashes. You restrain yourself from sighing, get the books from the shopping bag and shove them towards her.

“I thought you might need something. We’re going to be driving for a while.”

Her lips tighten before she smiles, as if she thought of suppressing it. It pulls at your heart strings for a second before you remember you have a headache. You rub at the top of your nose bridge and take out the bottle of aspirin, opening it up. You steal Rose’s drink and drop two tablets in.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to do it.”

You shush her and drink up. It tastes rather foul and you start gagging. Rose looks at you with an eyebrow raised and a faint smirk.

“Are you ready to get on the road? We’ve wasted enough time.” you say, unwrapping the beef sandwich.

She pouts ever so slightly and gets up. You follow. You get to the car and you’re about to open the driver’s seat door when she slides between you and the car, hand turned palm up in front of her.

“You’re not driving.”

You scoff and throw your hands in the air, the shopping bag dangling from your wrist.

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Roxy, you are tired and in obvious pain. I’m not letting you drive; it’s unsafe for both of us.”

You growl and drop the keys on her hand, mumbling about teenagers. She’s looking at you, eyebrows lowered. You look directly at her and she snaps her head away.

You don’t know what her fucking problem is but you’re too pissed to care. Your ears are still pounding and you’re seriously considering just popping more aspirins in your mouth and hope for the best.

You’re just out the gas station when the drugs kick in and you pass out.

-

The sun is starting to set when you wake up. Rose is focused on the road and gnawing on your scarf.

“Hey, stop that.”

She raises her eyebrows and her eyes momentarily flicker over you.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, much better.”

You fidget and look outside, trying to collect your thoughts.

“We should stop for the night.”

“What about wasting time?”

You shake your head and gaze at her.

“It’s not a waste of time. I’m tired. You’re tired. We should just…I’m sorry I was being a jerk earlier.”

“You were not a jerk.”

“Please.”

Rose’s hands are sliding all over the steering wheel.

“It doesn’t bother me. You were tired. Of course you’re not going to be particularly chipper.”

You open your mouth to protest but it dies in your throat.

“But anyway…” you mutter “We passed by a motel sign. Just stop there and we can actually rest in an actual bed.”

She smirks.

“Oh, so you want an actual bed,”

“Don’t even start with me.”

-

You’re lying on the queen sized bed in the middle of the badly lit motel room. Rose is reading by the lamp. You prop yourself up on your elbows and gaze over her.

She could be at home, safe in her bed. You could be at school. And she’d be safe from you.

You really need a drink.

You jump off the bed and grab the bag from the gas station. Your hand touches something soft. You look back at her. You’re fine in your hoodie but it is kind of freezing.

“Hey Rose, I sorta got you something back in the gas station.”

Her eyes meet yours and you feel a chill down your spine.

“I’m not sure you’ll like it but it’s getting pretty cold and you didn’t pack any warm clothes and I just-“

She’s tilting her head and inspecting you. If there was a hole you could jump in…

You remove the atrociously orange hoodie from the bag and present it to her.

Her eyes fill with confusion for a split second but then her face lights up. She places her book in the nearest surface and gets up, taking the hoodie from you.

She seems genuinely happy. You’re genuinely confused.

You’re about to say it was the best color available but her arms are now on your waist and she’s nuzzling against your collar bone. You rest your hand on her head.

“Thank you. That was very considerate of you.”

You can feel her smiling.

“I like the color.”

Heat is spreading through your face and you awkwardly pat her back. She takes a step back, letting go of you, and puts the hoodie on. It’s a bit too long, and the hood covers her eyes but she’s smiling and warm and that’s all that matters at the moment.

“I find it hard to believe you actually…Thought about me.” She says. She shakes her head.

“No, never mind, just…Thank you.”

You brush your bangs out of your face and smile. You go back to the bag and take out the bottle of scotch. Rose is eyeing you curiously.

“I know you don’t like me drinking but-“

“No, it’s fine. Really.”

You jump on the bed and uncap the bottle with your teeth. You chug. It burns your throat but you’re used to it by now.

You feel pressure in the bed next to you. Rose is watching you. She’s slightly gnawing on her lower lip.

“Yeah?”

“If I were to say I would like to try drinking, would you think less of me?”

You chuckle.

“Of course not.”

“So…”

You clench your teeth. This is probably not a good idea.

She’s staring at you expectantly.  You snort and hand her the bottle.

“If you have a hangover or otherwise hurt yourself, it was not my fucking fault, you hear me?”

She smirks and nods.

The first drink is the worst. She gags and sputters a bit but quickly composes herself.

The second, she drinks less at once. She slips her tongue between her lips and you feel your stomach doing somersaults.

You take the bottle from her hands and have a quick sip. She wrestles it out of your grasp.

Third drink, she already knows what she’s doing. Still, whiskey drains between her lips, down her chin and she haphazardly tries to wipe it off.

You take the bottle and you down a fourth of it. It’s almost at half now.

You stop counting.

You’re not sure how it happened, but she’s on top of you now. Her hand is pulling at your hair, nails scratching your scalp. She nips at your lower lip and you whine. Her hand is finding her way under your hoodie. You’re looking her in the eyes, deep hypnotizing warm violet. Her hand is massaging your breast and you shudder. Her brow crinkles and she looks confused.

She pulls a twenty out of your bra,

You are panting hard, Rose on top of you. She’s staring at the bill in her hand, confusion spread on her face. You actually laugh a little, despite the rude interruption.

“I told you I was going to like, withdr-draw money. I put it all in my bar, bra so it’d be safe and stuff.”

She looks you in the eyes. Her gaze travels to your chest.

“Do you jus-just have a stack ah, of bills in there?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Like, almost 700 dollars give or, uh, take.”

A devilish smirk plays on her lips as she slides off the bed.

“Take it out. All of it.”

You cock your head to the side and pout.

“Why.”

“Just do it.”

You shrug and remove the wad of cash from your bra. Rose’s grin is widening.

“We don’t have any music but…”

You’re still thoroughly confused.

She takes off the obnoxiously orange hoodie and lovingly places it by the bed.

She’s standing in front of you, hair sticking up from taking the hoodie off, blushing far too much and with a grin splitting her face.

It’s insanely attractive.

Off goes the sweater vest. It hits the wall and falls to the ground. She’s licking her lips and begins unbuttoning her shirt. If you weren’t blushing all over before, you certainly are now.

She’s sort of just moving her hips and taking off her shirt and it starts hitting you.

You look at the stack of bills and back at her. The shirt flies over your head and lands behind the headboard of the bed.

She’s unzipping her skirt and waggling her eyebrows at you. You slid yourself forward, sitting on the bottom of the bed. She traces your jaw line with her fingers and you nuzzle against her palm.

Her skirt slides to the ground.

You make a point of theatrically waving a twenty around before sticking it in the waistband of her boyshorts.

She giggles and you can’t help but laugh.

She’s actually dancing and twirling, and you make a show of shoving bills in her underwear.

She pins you down and rips off your hoodie, throwing it somewhere. Her lips are on your neck and your pants are down to your knees. You laugh and hook your thumbs on the band of her shorts; bills are falling down onto the bed.

There’s something nagging at the back of your mind. You flip her so you’re both on your side.

“Rose.”

She’s giggling and trying to kiss you.

“Rose, stop.”

You grab her wrists and try to breath. The pressure in your head is suffocating.

“Rose, you’re drunk, I can’t.”

She whines and rolls over to her back.

“That’s what you always fuckin’ say. That, that is what you’ve been sayin’ for like, a month. You alwaysh make excuses!”

She sobs.

You rest your head on your pillow and gaze upon her for what seems like an eternity.

“I love you.” You say “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

You lay in silence.

She turns to her side and presses against you.

“Can you just…Just hold me?”

“Of course.”

You pull the blankets over the two of you. You fall asleep feeling her breath on your neck, a part of you regretting backing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any issues, my internet is acting up.


	6. Keep your eyes on the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is not a perfect little angel.

You wake up with your heart pounding in your ears and bile rising up your throat. You try to dash to the bathroom and end up falling down next to the toilet. With some strain you raise your head before throwing up. While in the act of emptying your stomach on porcelain, you feel a cool hand sliding over your forehead and pulling your hair back.

You grip the edge of the seat and cough loudly. You are far too aware of the coldness of the bathroom floor on your bare skin. You look down at yourself and peel a twenty off your thigh.

“I feel like shit.”

You lean back against Roxy and she holds you, kissing the back of your head.

“This is why you shouldn’t drink.”

You growl and try to get up on your own, only to fall down on your ass. Roxy giggles and grabs your wrist, pulling you up, one hand on your lower back to stabilize you. You look over her. She’s wearing clean clothes and doesn’t seem to be in any sort of discomfort, though she looks as tired as ever.

“Do you simply not get hangovers.”

“I’ve been drinking for a long time.”

You belatedly realized you’re only wearing underwear and quickly make your way to the main room (you hope she didn’t see you blush), to get dressed.

Or lie down, lying down seems fine.

You collapse into the bed.

Roxy sits next to you and rubs soothing circles between your shoulders.

“I am never drinking again.”

“Yeah, okay.”

-

You leave the motel while it’s still morning. You still feel fairly nauseous, but at least you’re not wobbling around anymore. The car is covered in a fine layer of ice, perhaps it rained last night.

As you unlock the doors, you realize Roxy is looking at you, eyebrows pulled together.

“Yes?”

“Are you planning on driving? My car? In this weather?”

You roll your eyes and release a theatrical sigh. Of course she wouldn’t trust you with her precious car.

“And what’s your problem with that?”

“It’s not safe.”

“I can drive just fine, Roxy.”

She fidgets in place but shakes her head and gets in. You follow.

“Do you think we can get to Tennessee before the sun sets?” you ask.

-

The rain is coarse and pounds heavily on the windshield. The wipers are on but it doesn’t help much. You slick your hair back, sighing. Roxy looks at you, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. You focus on the road, there’s no point in caring what she thinks at this point.

Maybe you’ll crash into a tree and watch her freak out over her pretty little car being wrecked.

Your nails dig into the steering wheel. No, that’s not right. Roxy cares about you. She cares. Your eyes momentarily flick down, bright orange and hot pink. You look terrible in the scarf-hoodie combination but it’s hardly an issue.

She cares about you.

“Hey, keep your eyes on the road, will you?”

Even if she’s very annoying about it.

You would never admit it but it bothers you how she seems to treat you like a child. Such as last night.

Your hands shift up and down the steering wheel. The windshield wipers are going back and forth rhythmically and your sight follows. Roxy has taken out her old Gameboy and is playing some Pokémon game. You roll your eyes.

The drive so far has been fairly silent, 45 minutes of hearing the rain pour and Roxy moan and whine at you. You briefly wonder if this was your own car or someone else’s she would care so much.

She’s always loved this car, hasn’t she? After you mother gave it to her            for her excellent grades, she couldn’t stop bragging and going out for several hour drives. That year, for your birthday, you got a sweater.

“Hey.” You mutter, nails scratching at the steering wheel as your gaze flicks over to Roxy “Do you remember Christmas two years ago?”

She mumbles something and continues to press buttons. You shake your head.

“That’s when mother gave you this car, correct? You kept your GPA up and came home to a brand new shiny and very pink BMW.”

She nods and smashes the A button.

You furrow your eyebrows and glare at her.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“No, I’m listening.”

You tilt your head to the side, lips pursed.

“You really liked going out for drives.”

“I didn’t want to be home.”

You raise your eyebrows and momentarily turn to look at her. She’s too busy playing to admonish you.

“Gee, aren’t you the one who liked being home?”

“Not that Christmas. Mom was generally bad to be around those last months of the year.”

“Yet you never took me out.”

“You were grounded.”

She looks up at you, frowning.

“Wasn’t that the time you set fire to the chemistry lab? Mom was really pissed.”

Your jaw drops for a moment and you turn back to the road. You had completely forgotten that incident.

“We had to pay for the damage. It was a strain on her wallet especially since she’d already bought the car. I was sure she was going to return it.”

You bite your lip and focus on the road as Roxy speaks.

“Man, what got into you? You should’ve know better than to mess around the lab alone.”

“I wasn’t messing around; I was simply doing my work. I had gotten distracted by my schoolmates and their frivolous fooling around during class, so I decided to finish my work in peace. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“Yeah, but you still fucked up.”

You grind your teeth.

“I mean, that was a real fuck up of epic proportions. I thought mom would never forgive you, especially since you spent that entire school semester snarking out your teachers. It was worse than the time you ran away from home and-“

“Is it point-out-everything-terrible-Rose-has-done day? I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten to note that down on my calendar.” You mutter, the rage in your voice barely constrained.

Roxy is staring at you now, eyebrows furrowed together in a mockup of a concerned expression. You look at the road again and focus.

“Rose…Look, so you messed up a couple of times, so did I-“

“Yet I never saw you pay for it.”

Her mouth opens and closes and she looks away.

“I got grounded too. I didn’t exactly have everything given to me just like that.”

“Oh, of course. You couldn’t have another serving of pudding or you couldn’t go out with your friends one Friday. And after all was said and done, you got showered in gifts and coddled.”

“Okay, so maybe I was a bit favored!” there’s a bite to her voice, a shrillness, she’s angry “But when I did something stupid, I didn’t turn around and do it _again_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.” You deadpan “That I’m guilty and deserving of everything that was dished out to me.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Unfortunately, that what it sounded like.”

You can feel her glaring at you.

“I love you but you’ve done dumb shit Rose.”

“Oh yes, I can feel the love. I’m the helpless precious baby you have to take care of because I always screw up. You obviously can do no wrong.”

“ Look, I’m not the one who bitched out her teachers, or refused to cooperate with anyone, or broke her curfew several times. Yeah, maybe mom was harsher on you!”

There’s a sob and on your peripheral vision, you see Roxy turn around and look outside the window, away from you.

“But maybe it was because you messed up harder.”

Your knuckles are white from the force with which you are griping the steering wheel. You didn’t even realize you were doing it.

You glance over at Roxy. She’s staring outside, facing away from you, but her face is red and her eyes are puffy. You can see glistening on her face, even a single tear rolling down her cheek which she swiftly wipes away with the sleeve of her jacket.

Yes, maybe she’s angry. Probably very much so.

But she’s definitely upset and it was your fault.

Sometimes you wonder if you brought your misfortune on yourself. This is one of those times.

Your eyes momentarily flick down, bright orange and hot pink. You look terrible in the scarf-hoodie combination but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

She cares about you.

And you hurt her feelings.

You cross the border of Tennessee in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should probably thank y'all for the support and love this fic has gotten. Almost 60 kudos, wow, hot damn.
> 
> I appreciated every single one and all the comments. Thank you so much guys.


	7. Can you push me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Roxy make up.

You think you hated your sister for a few hours once, or you were at least very upset with her. It was right about the time she blew up the chemistry lab. You were barely 18 years old, she was 15.

You had just gotten home from college one morning and you distinctly remember your mother yelling and crying. You stood frozen at the door until Rose ran out of the living room, passed by without acknowledging you and walked out, slamming the front door behind her. Your mother tried to run after her but she froze at the living room door, looking at you, absolutely livid.

She tried to avoid your questions, to ensure you everything was fine, but you pushed on. She handed your new car keys, told you about the chemistry lab, how she didn’t know what to do about the costs. The school insurance wouldn’t cover it and Rose was never supposed to be in the lab in the first place, she had actually broken into it. It was deemed that the school wasn’t at fault.

At first you were confused, then upset, then you raged. This was still when mom wasn’t that bad with Rose, at least when you were around, and you were sure she had done it on purpose, acting out. You had tried to convince your mother to return the car but she wouldn’t have it. You shouldn’t be punished by your sister’s errors.

She had you convinced.

It was hours and hours before you noticed Rose hadn’t come back yet. Your mother was too pissed off to care.

But you loved Rose, even with all her issues.

You got into your new car and drove off into the city in search of her. The sun had set and it had started snowing by the time you found her in an old children’s park, sitting on the swing sets. The dilapidated look of the park in general and the rusted over swings in particular made you queasy.

“Get out of there before that thing breaks and crashes.” You yelled out through the rolled down window.

She ignored you and continued to feebly swing.

You parked the BMW and walked over to her.

“Are you not afraid someone will rob your brand new vehicle. Or has your fancy college made you forget how to live in the city.”

She had fresh eyeliner marks on her face from crying and seemed to have been biting her lower lip hard before you arrived.

It was then you realized what the attraction you felt for her whenever you came home from college for the past year was.

You actually really loved her. It was surprisingly easy to accept this after a year of mulling over it. You realized it was actually impossible to be mad at her.

“Come home Rose.”

She shrugged and continued to swing.

You grabbed onto the chain closest to you and the swing stopped, nearly throwing her off. She remained silent.

You tentatively reached out to brush the snow off her hair and she smacked your hand away.

“Rose…”

“Leave me alone.”

You noticed a fresh bandage on her arm when her sweater rode up after she lashed out. She ran out the house without even a coat.

“Did you get hurt in the lab explosion?”

She looked away from you.

“You shouldn’t have been in there, you know.”

She continued to looked away.

“I’m not mad, you know. I mean, I was. But I can’t stay mad at you.”

Because you love her.

She seems to relax a little and you try sweeping the snow off her hair again. She lets you. She’s cold and wet so you drape your coat across her shoulders and hold out your hand to help her get up but she shakes her head.

“Can you push me? Just for a few minutes?”

She fidgets uncomfortably as you stare.

“Like when we were younger?”

You push her.

-

You’re near the border of Mississippi, tomorrow you should reach Houston. The rain has cleared a little but it’s still freezing cold so you turned the temperature up.

This is by far the best hotel you’ve stayed in so far.  You’re toasty and cuddly under the soft blankets.

This could be wonderful if not for the circumstances.

You briefly consider just making up with Rose but you remember she went out. Your fingers trace lazy circles on what should be her pillow but you don’t even know if she actually wants to sleep next to you.

You know you should be upset at her. You should be mad. She had no consideration for your feelings sometimes.

You roll over. Then again, she’s right. She did have it much worse than you and your mother could be unnecessarily rough. But Rose does have a tendency to fuck up a lot. You’ve done dumb things but it’s not like…

You’re pretty sure you’re just thinking in circles at this point.

The truth is neither of you is perfect and you’re tired of protecting Rose and making sure her feelings don’t get hurt when she’s running around setting fires. Sometimes literally.

There’s an irresistible urge to forget everything and put her on a pedestal but you know that’s just stupid. You love her, but she’s flawed.

Right.

You can talk about this. You’re an adult.

The door opens and you freeze.

Rose walks inside and she’s carrying food. You would stay in bed and pretend you’re not here but you’re starving so you languidly sit up, staring at the paper bags. Rose silently places a bag on the bed and sits at the table on the corner. She pulls out a salad and a container with steak and fries from her bag and opens up a grape soda. You scuttle around in your bag and retrieve a bottle of strawberry juice and a container filled with fries and two cheeseburgers.

You freeze for a second looking down at the meal.

“You got my favorite.”

Rose freezes briefly with her fork in midair, a piece of lettuce falling from it. She blinks and spears a fry.

“It was a stroke of luck.”

You want to smile and frown at the same time so you take a bite out of the first burger and shrug.

You eat silently for a while before you reach for the remote and turn on the TV. Fresh Prince reruns. You flip through channels before giving up. You’re not sure what you’re hoping to accomplish.

“Your credit card is still working. I checked it out while I was out.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You briefly wonder about your mother before something nags at your conscience.

“I never told you my PIN.”

“…Oh.”

Rose blushes briefly. She continues to eat and shrugs.

“Rose…”

You take a deep breath.

“This is what I was talking about.”

“Can we just have dinner?”

“No!”

She looks back at you, surprised. You don’t remember the last time you raise your tone of voice at her.

“This is exactly what I was talking about in the car.” you say. Your mouth is running. You have to get this off your chest before your mind catches up and you end up trying to protect her again. “You do dumb shit like this, and you think it’s completely justified and smart and that you’re oh so better than everyone else  for thinking ahead and doing things like this but it’s not, it’s just dumb and you end up hurting yourself or hurting others, are you think it’s okay, because your life is shitty, but that doesn’t mean you can take it out on others and-“

You choke up.

“You really hurt me, Rose.”

“I know.”

You realize you’re staring at your food and your eyes flick up to look at her. She turned towards you and is staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry. I…Never meant to hurt you. I had a brief moment in which I doubted your feelings and it caused me to lash out. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me.”

You want to hold her and tell her everything would be okay but you know that’s stupid and counterproductive so you finish off your dinner.

-

“I forgive you.”

“Oh.”

You’re in bed with Rose. She’s staring at you. She smiles slightly and you hug her.

“Just…I love you Rose. And I know you resent me but-“

“I shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”

She pecks your cheek and you feel warm.

You kiss her and hold her. You could do this forever. She plays with the edge of your shirt before trying to pull it off.

“Hey-“

“It’s our last night before we get to Dirk’s right? Let’s make it count.”

You stop and look into her eyes. She looks back and smiles. Compared to the surly girl you knew not so long ago…

Maybe this is a good thing after all.

You let her take your shirt off and you kiss her neck, feeling it rumble when she moans. You pull away and she whines but you shush her as you tug on her sweater. She smirks and takes it off. You press butterfly kisses to her stomach and she arches, tangling her fingers on your hair. Her hands find their way to your underwear and you freeze for a second, but you’ve been avoiding this for too long so you give her what she wants.

She presses against you and you groan out, shivering. You push out and flip her on her back, pinning her down and leaving her helpless. You’re sure you can hear her chuckle.

You kiss down her jaw to her collarbones and she sighs. You grab her wrists as she tries to tug down your underwear and roll your eyes.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s young and inexperienced. She’s probably not quite aware of this but you’ve been around a while, at least you know what you’re doing.

She’s looking at you with half lidded eyes and a ghost of a smirk on her lips. You lean down again and try kissing her softly but she pulls you down with force. Your teeth knock for a second and you cringe, a hiss of pain leaving your mouth. She kisses you hungrily and you play along, until her hand slides down and she presses against you. You grunt and glare at her but she’s gnawing on your ear now and that’s actually really nice, you let her continue, even if it’s awkward and inexperienced, but it’s her and you love her so you lay soft kisses on her chest and grind down on her hand.

You pant and moan, clenching your teeth, press against Rose. You’re sure she doesn’t actually know what she’s doing.

You grab her wrist and clench your eyes shut, removing her hand from between you. You tug down on her underwear and she lets you remove them, shivering slightly. You take off your own and breathe in before gently grinding down on her.

She gasps and bucks. You shush her, trailing your fingers over her jaw, and lean down to kiss her.

You’re pressed against her, grinding together and she’s making small whimpers and moans next to your ear. Her arms are around your waist and she’s pulling you down, closer.

She screams out and you reach out as fast as possible to cover her mouth. You’re sure you pushed her over the edge as she falls limply bellow you, eyes closes tightly. That was kind of fast. You kiss her brow and brush away her hair. Her lips move slightly and you shush her again, pulling her close.

She falls asleep in your arms.

When the sun rises, you’re trying hard not to cry because you’re sure you just made a huge mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, that took a while.


	8. I shouldn’t have dragged you away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls finally get to Houston

Dirk’s building is in the middle of Houston. It’s big and white and there’s no elevator. Roxy hasn’t said two words to you since yesterday. You think she might be nervous. Perhaps Dirk won’t let you stay that long? After that first night when you left home, she didn’t really mess with her cellphone…You thought she had gotten everything set up, but maybe not.

It’s like the climax of an adventure drama. As if everything you’ve gone through is going to culminate in this moment. And then comes the epilogue and everything will be well. Or terrible. Or bittersweet.

You hope it’s a happy-ever-after-with-no-sequels-or-reboots-for-money.

You’re not sure where this metaphor is heading but Roxy is pushing you inside so you do. The trek up the stairs is hard, and you’re not exactly in shape. By the time you get to the apartment, Roxy is looking at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Are you okay?” you ask back “Because you haven’t exactly been talkative.”

She stares at you and you can’t read her expression.

“I’m fine.”

She turns and knocks.

This is it.

Dirk opens the door.

Except he doesn’t really look like Dirk, at least not how you remember him from the small picture on Roxy’s phone.

“Hey little man!” chirps Roxy. Not-Dirk scoffs and fixes his aviators. Who wears sunglasses inside?

“Only Bro can call me that Lalonde. For you it’s Dave.”

You think his gaze is on you but you can’t be sure.

Dave is taller than you but not as tall as your sister and he’s kind of boyish looking and fairly skinny, with bright blond hair and tan skin. He looks like the type of kid you would avoid at school, especially while wearing those ridiculous shades.

A man walks up from behind him, also wearing ridiculous shades - in fact, his are even worse - and he smirks at Roxy. Roxy’s grin only grows and you’re not sure what she was so worried about before.

“Lalonde.”

“Strider.”

Roxy laughs her beautiful laugh and hugs him. Dirk is actually pretty short, shorter than Dave, but still taller than you, yet he looks older than his brother, manlier even. His jaw is stronger and he’s somewhat muscular - you can see it even under the loose polo he’s wearing. You’d like to inspect him more but his face is somewhere around your sister’s breasts and she doesn’t seem to be letting go soon, so you turn your gaze to Dave.

“Hello Dave. I’m Rose.”

“Yeah, little Lalonde. Sup.”

-

You’re not sure what you expected but it wasn’t this. During the long car rides, Roxy had explained to you how Dirk and his brother had lost their parents a few years ago, but Dirk had started working on Robotics while he was in college, and had enough money to spare. He was, to put it simply, really fucking loaded. Roxy’s words, not yours.

Their apartment on the other hand…

You’re not sure what the puppets are for and you’re kind of scared to ask. The cinder blocks and laid out wires are also…interesting.

You decide it’s not worth the trouble and return your attention to the others. Dirk and Roxy are talking excitedly while Dave is focusing on the floor.

This feels rather…underwhelmed. It looks like everything is in order. You thought the end of your journey would be a little more explosive.

“Hey little Lalonde, you okay?”

You realize you’ve been staring at Roxy and Dirk. You nod quickly.

“Everything’s fine, Dirk.”

“Call me bro.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Both Roxy and Dave chuckle while Dirk feigns hurt. You roll your eyes.

“Hey, you want a poptart or something?” asks Dave. You raise your eyebrows and shrug. It seems you’re going to be living there for a while, so no point in being antagonistic. You follow Dave to the kitchen.

 “Blueberry or S’mores?”

“Blueberry.”

He drops two poptarts in the toaster and turns to you.

“Bro likes your sister a lot.”

You feel a hint of jealousy growing in your stomach but you refrain from drawing any conclusions. Plus, you’re not really sure how much Roxy told Dirk and how much Dirk told Dave.

“She’s very likeable.”

“I guess. Last time I saw her she dumped a sundae on my head so I’m not that fucking keen on her.”

You resist the urge to chuckle.

“Nah man, she’s cool. Plus, they’ve been best friends for years so like…Even if I didn’t like her I wouldn’t have much of a choice. I think it helps that they’re both teen prodigies or whatever the fuck. At least Lalonde acts like a normal person. Bro can be more robotic than his robots. You know, she talks about you a lot.”

The toaster pops and Dave busies himself with removing the poptarts without burning himself, while you blink at his back.

It’s hard to believe Roxy would ever mention you.

A few weeks before it would be downright impossible to consider.

Dave hands you a poptart in a napkin and you occupy yourself with eating. You don’t want to ask too many questions and have an oh-so-in-love attack in front of him.

“She seems to think you’re the most amazing person on earth.”

You choke on your poptart a little. Dammit Dave.

“You okay.”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

 “Honestly, I’m a little disappointed, I mean, the hype was so high I expect like this charismatic award winning genius supermodel to appear at my door. No offense. “

“I’m sorry I’m unable to fulfill your teenager fantasies.”

“Apologies accepted.”

You roll your eyes.

“So what’s with the puppets and swords.”

He freezes for a second and clears his throat.

“Yeah, puppets are kinda Bro’s thing, y’know. Everyone has that thing, right? Like, what would you say your thing is?”

Incest?

“Tentacles.”

You think he’s staring at you behind the glasses, mostly because he’s completely still.

This is why people don’t like you.

To your surprise he laughs.

“Better than puppets.”

“I don’t know, those are some fine puppets.”

He scarfs down the poptart.

“What? Do you have a problem with the puppets?”

“I don’t have a problem with the puppets, I mean, I live with the puppets, I sleep with the puppets, I breathe with the puppets.”

“You sleep with the puppets.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Are you aware puppets don’t breathe Dave?”

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I see. Hand me that puppet.”

“What puppet.”

“The puppet behind you.”

He tenses for a moment and carefully looks back.

“There’s no puppet there.”

“Yeah, there isn’t. Why were you so frightened there might be?”

“I wasn’t frightened.”

“Hm.”

“I wasn’t.”

“How about you hand me the puppet to the left then?”

The slight twist of his head tells you he’s looking at the puppet on the counter.

“You know, they’re actually called smuppets.”

“Hand me the puppet Dave.”

“No, fuck you.”

“Why are you so against grasping the puppet Dave?”

“I am not, I just don’t want to because you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Grasp the puppet Dave. Fondle it. Cuddle it.”

“Never.”

“You’ll feel much better if you do. No one will wonder why you’re so against it anymore. And you’ll have a soft plush rump to massage. Doesn’t that sound nice. It’s not that hard.”

“Fuck you, I can grab all the puppets I want but I won’t because you want me to.”

“Fine, don’t grab the puppet. How will you live with yourself now, knowing you could’ve grabbed the puppet? You could’ve trusted me Dave, but you didn’t. Now, the lie is too big, how will you explain yourself when you want to grab the puppet?”

“I can grab all the fucking puppets I want and I don’t have to explain myself.”

He quickly swipes the puppet off the counter and stands there, holding it.

You throw the last piece of poptart into your mouth and smirk, before turning around to walk out of the kitchen.

“The puppet is a metaphor for your repressed homosexuality. I’m so proud of you.”

He actually screams a little.

-

“So like, you think Cthulhu and shit is a thing?”

“Well, as in believing the writings of Lovecraft to be non-fictional? Not exactly. But godlike creatures man can’t even explain? Sure. Why not.”

“So you believe in the occult.”

“Let’s say yes.”

“Religion is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“I want my camera back.”

“No.”

You fiddle with the buttons and take a picture of Dave. He’s sort of pouting. It’s amusing.

“What about ghosts?”

“Not farfetched.”

“My friend John is into ghosts and the paranormal and shit.”

“Your boyfriend John?”

He scoffs.

“He lives in Washington.”

You blink at him.

“That’s not a denial. Is he your boyfriend?”

“No. Shut up. I think you’d like him, you could be bros.”

“Because of ghosts.”

“And because you’re both douches.”

“I feel insulted.”

You take a picture of the Houston skyline.

“Hey, try not to waste too much roll. And you’re going to develop those; I don’t have all the time in the world.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You look back at him. He’s sitting on his bed and he shrugs.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

The door opens and Dirk walks in.

“The futon is ready and I put a mattress on the floor for one of you. I actually have work all night and I can sleep in the lab, so no worries where I’m staying. We’ll find a better setup soon.”

He smiles reassuringly and you can’t help but smile back.

“You should sleep, you must be tired.”

You nod.

“Night Dave.”

“Night Rose.”

Roxy is already set up on the floor when you get to the living room. Dirk waves goodbye as he walks out the door and you wave back. Soon there’s only the two of you in the room. You turn off the lights. The light from the windows illuminates the room just enough.

“You can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind.”

She shakes her head and you crawl onto the futon.

“So, you told Dirk everything right? Dave just thinks we’re running away because mother sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Roxy?”

She stares up at you.

“Yes?”

You snuggle into the soft blankets.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I fucked up, Rose.”

“What are you talking about?”

She looks like she doesn’t know how to put it.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you away from home and I…Shouldn’t have had sex with you.”

“Roxy…”

“No, don’t, I-“

“Quit it.”

“What-“

“Just quit it already.”

You drag yourself halfway off the couch so you can glare at her properly.

“That wasn’t home. Maybe it was home for you, but not for me. I was miserable Roxy, and yeah, maybe sometimes it was my fault but…Everything has been so much better since we ran away. Perhaps it’s not perfect, but I’m better. And I’m better thanks to you and-“

You’re on the verge of tears and you try to compose yourself.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. Just get it into that dense head of yours.”

She looks slightly stunned. You sigh.

“I know I can’t stop you from feeling guilty or thinking you did the wrong thing but I know you didn’t.”

You hesitate before leaning down to kiss her. She lets you. Going back up, you rest your head on the pillows and sigh. You let your arm fall off the couch and Roxy grabs it.

You smile as you fall asleep.

-

You wake up and yawn. Roxy is still fast asleep. You stay for a few moments watching her. She hadn’t slept that well during the trip and she deserves her rest. You creep out the futon and head for the kitchen. The sun isn’t up yet, but Dave is in his boxers, flipping pancakes.

“What the fuck, Dave. What time is it?”

“5 am.”

“Did you even sleep at all?”

“Yeah.”

You sit at the kitchen table and rest an elbow on it, propping your head on your hand. You expected to sleep a little more but-

Dave shoves a plate of pancakes in front of you. You shrug and dig in.

“I heard you and Roxy talk last night.”

You promptly choke on them.

“I didn’t mean to, I was going to the bathroom!”

You stare up at him, your jaw slack. All pretenses of staying composed have been thrown out the window and you’re panicking.

“She didn’t like…Force you right? I mean…”

You’re not sure what to say.

“You’re asking if our romantic relationship is consensual?”

“Yeah.”

“It is. I started it.”

“Oh.”

He sits in front of you and you notice he’s not actually wearing his shades, probably because he wouldn’t be able to see at all. He looks older without them.

You quietly munch on your pancakes.

“Is that why you left New York.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. I don’t…Really care.”

“Oh.”

“I mean.”

He looks somewhat flustered.

“Hey, I think you’re cool and as long as no one is getting hurt, it’s cool right? Right?”

“Right.”

“So. Whatever.”

“Huh. Thank you.”

You eat silently.

“Wanna go see the city or whatever? Like after breakfast?”

“Can we wait for the sun to rise, I mean-“

“Yeah, duh.”

-

It’s night by the time you get back. Dave insisted you got slushies and fried chicken before you went home.

You spent the day exploring Houston on foot. You’re more than exhausted, but it was worth it. Dave took you to the local record stores, the museums, and the library. He talked about Bro and strifing, puppets and Lil’ Cal. You told him about antagonizing your mother and exploring your city alone, about your sister, and your dad.

You’re walking up the street to his building and you look at him. He’s turned out to be a great friend. You’re not sure you ever had a friend before, at least not like him. It’s like you’ve known him for years. Maybe in another reality you did.

You allow yourself to smile as the cool wind makes your hair flutter. It’s cold but not as cold as New York. You could get used to this. You could get used to a lot of things in Texas.

Dave seems to have noticed your contemplative state, because the prick rams his shoulder against yours. You reach out and smack at his face, trying to dislodge his glasses and he lets out a girly scream. He steps forward quickly and throws his empty cup at you. You dodge by a hair and he’s running up the street.

“Race you there!”

“You’re seventeen!” you yell out but you run after him anyway.

By the time you get to the building, he already ran up the stairs. You wheeze and lean against the wall to breathe. Suddenly, you regret skipping PE to stay in an obscure corner of the library reading. You slowly make your way up the stairs.

Maybe you can start strifing with Dave and Bro. Get in shape. You don’t think either of them would mind. And if you got hurt, Roxy could fix you up, like that time she broke the mug and you bandaged her hand.

You hope you can get a new violin. Yours broke when you were 15. Actually, you broke it because you were upset at your mom. It was not one of your best decisions. If you got a new one you could do some tracks with Dave. Roxy always said she liked your music.

Dave said he did movie nights with the John kid, maybe you and Roxy could join them.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this excited over dumb domestic things.

This could be a really good thing.

This could be great.

This could be home.

You actually grin as you walk up the last set of stairs but as soon as you can see the apartment door your heart drops.

Dave’s cool kid face is gone, Bro is solemn behind Roxy, who is crying, and in front of them stands your mother.


	9. I should know it was too good to be true

When you wake up, Rose and Dave are gone and Dirk has returned from work.

“You up? I kinda wanted use of my TV.”

You laugh and throw your pillow at Dirk. You lift yourself off the floor and onto the futon that still smells like Rose.

You’re feeling good. Like everything you’ve gone through has faded away. Rose loves you. Rose is happy with you. Rose is away from your mom and she’s happy with you.

Dirk starts playing some skateboarding game, sitting on the floor. You watch him lazily.

He looks…off?

“Dirk? You okay, bro?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I know you man. You’re not acting normally.”

You lean off the futon and stare at him. You can see his eyes from this angle, bright orange as always. His hand reaches out and pushes you away, and you giggle.

“No, seriously? What’s up?”

“What are you going to do, Roxy?”

You blink, looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…Did you even think before dropping everything and coming here?”

You’re surprised and frown as the words leave his mouth.

“I was kicked out, Dirk. I told you, I was kicked out, and I asked you for help.”

“And I gave it to you but-“

His façade drops as he stares at the ground in front of him, not bothering to pause the game.

“What are you going to do, Roxy? Are you going to drop out of school? Going to find a job? Stay here forever? I have money but I can’t help you with everything. What are you going to do with Rose? She has to finish high school; she’s a _kid_ , Roxy. Do you think you can give her a life?”

“That’s what you did with Dave!”

“I did it because our parents died! I didn’t choose to! And I certainly didn’t-“

He shut up. You glare at him as his words settle in your head.

“Seduce him? Take advantage of him? Fuck him?”

“You know that’s not what I meant…Roxy, I believe in you when you say you both wanted it but…You’re older than her. You should know better. This wouldn’t end well for either of you.”

“It’s ending well so far! She’s happy Dirk! I’ve never seen her this happy before.”

He looks away from you, curling into himself.

“I called your mom.”

You’re not sure of how to react so you don’t.

You think you might want to hurt him, scream and maul him.

You also want to curl up on his lap and cry, but that doesn’t seem smart given it’s his fault.

You want to breakdown. But you don’t.

“What do you mean?” you ask “When?”

“I called her a few days after you texted me for help. I said where you were going, tried to shift blame from you…She’s not mad, she knows she did throw you out and she-“

“She’s coming here. When?”

“In a few hours. Roxy-“

“You don’t understand.” You say. It’s hard to keep the tears in. “If we go back, Rose is gonna be miserable. Yeah, she’s not fucking mad at me. She’s mad at Rose.”

Your head drops.

“I spent years not protesting how she treated her. I let her treat me like a saint when Rose was getting the short end of the stick…I’ve fucked up a lot, Dirk, and you know it. But I was cute and nice and didn’t talk back much so mom didn’t punish me. It’s not fair that Rose, bright, brilliant Rose, got it worst, because it just fucking snowballed Dirk.”

He places his hand on your shoulder and you swat it away.

“The worse we treated her, the more she lashed out, and I let mom keep doing it. I could’ve said something Dirk, I could’ve-“

He pulls you into his arms, despite your protests, and holds you until you stop shaking.

“I’m sorry Roxy…I…”

“I understand. You were trying to do the right thing.”

“She…Is really happy isn’t she.”

“Dirk…I need you to do something for me.”

-

Mom shows up at sunset. You watch her car pull up and park next to your BMW.

Dirk holds your hand as she climbs up the stairs.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing.”

Your face is blank. You spent all day crying. Dirk has the decency to look ashamed of himself.

Your mother shows up at the top of the stairs. You’re not sure of what to do.

“Roxy!”

She walks in for a hug but you step back, shaking her head.

“No. I can’t.”

“Sweetheart, I missed you-“

“You threw us out! You blamed Rose and you threw us out!” you yell.

“Honey, let’s just go back to New York. We can find you a therapist or-“

“No!”

You shift uncomfortably.

“Are you just going to stay here? You can’t just-“

“I know.” You say, interrupting her. “I’ll go with you. In one condition.”

You look at Dirk and he nods. Your mother scoffs.

“I don’t think you’re in any state to make demands, young lady.”

“Let Rose stay with Dirk.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath and repeat what you just said with more confidence.

“Let Rose stay with Dirk. Give her to him for foster care. You can tell all your friends and all the neighbors she wanted to go to a school in Texas. I’ll do whatever you want me to. But leave her here. Let her be happy.”

Your mother shakes her head.

“Are you saying she wasn’t happy in my house, I-“

“No, mom! She wasn’t! You treated her like shit mom, and don’t even try to say you didn’t…Just…Leave her here. You don’t have to pay anything, you won’t have to do anything, just sign some papers and we can go, I’ll go with you, I’ll go back to school and you don’t have to worry about anything or anyone. She’s almost 18 anyway.”

Your mother opens her mouth and closes it again. She looks like she’s really considering it.

The silence is weighing on your shoulders like the building is closing in on you.

“Okay.”

The tears you were holding back finally burst.

“You mean it?”

“Yes. Rose can stay. This young man is obviously more responsible than you, for starters. And I suppose it wouldn’t be that terrible. Are you happy?”

You nod.

The loud pattering of feet in the stairs distracts you. Dave is grinning as he runs to the door. He looks around, and when he spots your mother, something clicks and his expression fades to horror.

You hug yourself as you hear more footsteps. Rose…How will you break this to her?

“Bro…Bro, what’s going on?”

“…Roxy can’t stay with us, Dave.”

“What…But…Rose?”

He looks at you and you realize, Rose told him.

“She’s…Staying.” You say, looking between your mother and Dirk. Your mother doesn’t look happy. Dirk is somber as he stares down Dave.

Dave shakes his head and glares at you. You know what’s on his mind, probably the same as in yours.

You don’t want to leave her. You don’t want to break her heart. But…You have to do what’s best for her, even if it hurts her.

Somehow, you’re not that mad at Dirk anymore.

Rose finally reaches the top of the staircase. The horrified look on her face almost kills you.

“Roxy, what…”

She eyes your mother in fear and you close your eyes, sighing. You don’t want to have this conversation.

“Rose…Don’t freak out. But I’m going to go back with mom.”

“You can’t.”

She walks the distance between you and grabs your arms. You look away because you can’t bear to see the pain in her face.

“You’re…You’re still a kid Rose. But mom agreed to let you stay with Dirk and Dave If I go and…I have my life Rose. I need to go back to school.”

The words almost burn your mouth. She sobs and you look down at her. It’s like the time she first said she loved you, only much worse. You never wanted to see her in this much pain again but…

It’s the best for the long run, you tell yourself.

“I don’t want to leave you.” She whispers.

“I don’ want to leave you either.”

You sob.

“You c-can stay with Dirk and Dave and-“

“Br-Dirk isn’t you!”

She lowers her voice until it’s almost silence.

“I need you.”

“You don’t. You really don’t. You’re brilliant and amazing and beautiful. You don’t need me to be happy.”

She rests her head on your chest and sobs.

“I want to go with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

She looks up at you, tears in her eyes. She looks so vulnerable.

“Rose. Promise me you’ll stay here and be happy.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Please.”

There is a moment of silence before she nods.

-

You’re standing in the hall of Dirk’s building. Rose is in front of you, and you can see she is trying not to cry. Dirk and Dave had stayed upstairs. Your mother is in her car, waiting for you.

“So this is it.” Mutters Rose “I should know it was too good to be true.”

“I still love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I guess. I’m going to miss you. You’ll call right?”

“Yeah. And I’m sure Dave will lend you his computer so we can videochat or something.”

“It’s not over, then?”

You bite your lip. You’ve been thinking about this since you hatched your plan with Dave.

“Rose…I don’t think we should be dating. At least not for a while.”

There’s panic in her eyes as she looks up at you.

“You said-“

“I love you. That won’t change. But…You’re young Rose. You should…Give other people a try.”

You shrug.

“I’m going to get clean. I’m going to stop drinking. And I want you to go to college and be a normal kid. Just…Date girls, hang out with Dave, have fun.”

“But I love you. I love you and no one else.”

“I know. I’m not saying this is forever. But…I don’t want you to hang on to me when I’m not even there.”

Rose nods. You know she understands, even if she’s not happy about it.

You take out your BMW keys and hand them to her. She doesn’t move, only staring at you.

“Take them.”

“Seriously.”

“Yeah.”

She blinks and grabs onto the keychain as if it was made of ice. Without a second thought, she removes the scarf you gave to her and drapes it on your neck. She smiles.

“We’ll be together again someday.” She says.

You smile bitterly and nod.

Someday.

You hug her and kiss her one last time, before walking out the building. You try to resist looking back, but you do. Rose is walking up the stairs, head hanging low.

You put your bags in the trunk and get in the car with your mother. She looks to you as if she wants to say something, but she only shakes her head and turns the key.

You watch the city landscape as you begin your travel back to New York.

Your hand trails up to your scarf, that still smells like Rose.

She’s going to be okay. You know it.

You, on the other hand…

You shake your head. You have to be positive, for her at least.

You know that someday, you will be together again.


	10. Epilogue

It’s been three months since you moved in with Bro and Dave and you’re standing in your new room, holding a box of books. Dave is busy with a box (which he doesn’t know is filled with puppets) and Bro is setting up your new laptop.

“Has anyone ever told you, you are absolutely awful at money management?”

“Yup. Maybe you can start doing it for me.”

“You really didn’t have to do this, Bro.”

“The move was a long time coming. I’m going to enjoy having my own room for once. And Dave kept whining about you using his computer.”

He shrugs.

You sit on your bed, the poster you just put up staring at you with dead horrorterror eyes.

It’s a nice room. And no odd wallpaper choices.

“Thank you, Bro.”

“Roxy told me to take care of you and that’s what I’m doing.”

A very unmanly shriek is heard, and you both know Dave opened the box.

“I’ll leave you alone to decorate and unpack.” Says Bro. He leaves snickering.

You get up and walk to your closet. There’s a big mirror in the door and you observe yourself. You look good. You’re still kinda chubby, but the strifing with Dave and Bro has left you fit. The dark circles under your eyes are almost vanished and your hair is longer. Your clothes are a lot more relaxed, a simple t-shirt with an open zip-up hoodie and shorts. Texas doesn’t lead itself to warm clothes and you don’t particularly miss them.

You look into your own violet eyes. For a flash, it’s like they turn pink. You blink. Still violet.

You open the nearest box of clothes. The orange hoodie Roxy once got for you is on top.

Shaking your head, you lie on the bed, still unmade.                  

You haven’t actually been talking to Roxy, since she’s in rehab in New York.

Everything is reminding you of her. Dirk, the hoodie, yourself…That’s the worst really. You can’t change your face, and the older you get, the more you look like her.

You wipe away the tears that are determined to fall.

You miss her. You miss her so much. Sometimes you still breakdown crying in the middle of the night. Dave saw you sometimes, but he never said anything.

You roll to your side, and continue to wipe your face. Good thing you didn’t bother with makeup.

There’s a knock on your door and you sit up, startled. The sun was starting to set. You must’ve fallen asleep. You rub your puffy eyes, trying to make it look like you didn’t cry yourself to sleep again.

“Come in.”

Dave peeks his head inside.

“What, not done? Geez, I know you’re a slob but at least put things away. Everything is still boxed.”

“Not everything.” You mutter.

“Anyway…” he throws a poptart at you and you catch it midair “We still got like, what, 9 months before we leave off to the big C, so get used to the room.”

You gnaw on the poptart, staring at Dave.

“The big C? That’s what we’re calling college now?”

You shrug.

“If you pass your classes.”

“You know I will.”

“Yeah, unless you keep fantasizing about the captain of the football team during Chemistry again.”

He flips you off and you chuckle.

“Aren’t you excited though? Meeting John and Jade?”

“You’ve known then longer than me…But yes, I am.” You giggle.

He allows himself a grin and leaves.

College…You flop back down on the bed.

You wonder about what Roxy told you, all those months ago.

You miss her so much but…

She wanted you to be happy.

You chuck the last of the pastry into your mouth and rub your face.

You’ll see when you get there. After all, you have options now, thanks to Bro.

Thanks to Roxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> It's over.
> 
> Woohoo I guess.
> 
> My tumblr is ezzyalpha if anyone is interested.
> 
> Well.
> 
> ...
> 
> I don't really know what to say. Saying this fic changed my life sounds really cheesy. But it kinda did.
> 
> I guess that, above all, I'd like to thank my friend Kobe (AO3 user Yonkobe) mostly because I met her due to this fic and she's been really important to me. I was in a rough spot when I met her.
> 
> Well, she's a wonderful beta reader and a much better friend than I deserve. So there's that.
> 
> Thanks kiddo.


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